


Wonderwall (The Last Of The Real Ones)

by defiersofthestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben has a Grimtaash, Dreams and Nightmares, Ed Sheeran Taylor Swift Fall Out Boy and Take That are mentioned, F/M, Fall Out Boy References, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Reincarnation, Rey loves flowers, songs about stars, the Force is strong with the dyad, they both like songs about stars and don't know why, they got another chance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defiersofthestars/pseuds/defiersofthestars
Summary: "I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me." Oh yeah, he knew, but Ben himself still had no idea whom or what exactly about.He couldn’t say anything; he couldn’t even make himself breathe. A single thought filled his mind: recognition. It felt like touching a live wire.Ben jerked his head up to look the girl in the face. Hazel and green eyes stared at each other in shock. She looked a little younger than him, her face covered by nice freckles and her brown hair short. And it seemed to him that she felt the same.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55
Collections: The Sacred Texts [ 2020 ]





	Wonderwall (The Last Of The Real Ones)

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderwall (n.) – someone who you find yourself thinking about all the time. The person who you’re completely infatuated with. 
> 
> The story takes place nearly 10-15 years from now (so all the songs are used for the purposes of this fic without any time confusion).
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/XFcPdf1)  
> A moodboard was made by wonderful @bensoloswhore on Twitter <3

“Cause you're the last of a dying breed

Write our names in the wet concrete

I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

I'm here in search of your glory

There's been a million before me

That ultra-kind of love

You never walk away from…”

\- Fall Out Boy, _The Last Of The Real Ones_

_Mum’s_ café hadn’t changed over the years. Its turquoise walls, its snow-white door with a round brass handle, and its wooden shelves with loaves of freshly baked bread that could be seen through the panoramic window were still here. Frozen in place, Ben couldn’t take his eyes off the familiar outlines. He still continued to call it _Mum’s,_ even after he had found out the real name of the place from which his mother brought home the most delicious rolls in the world after another long meeting ( _Paterson_ ).

This was one more beautiful yet sad memory, like all the others connected with his family. But he knew what the trip to his hometown would be, as well as the fact that he couldn’t resist coming here.

Therefore, it was foolish to continue to stand in one place. Adjusting the bag over his shoulder, Ben stepped into the café.

He was surrounded by familiar smells of coffee, warm bread, cinnamon, and the soft light of yellow lamps. Other visitors laughed, talked on the phone and had no idea what this small place meant to a tall, serious young man in dark clothes.

However, one thing had changed – now the distance between the tables to the counter was _a bit_ narrow. He realized this when, a moment later, the sleeve of his leather jacket brushed the notebook on the nearest table. It was only because of his reaction polished during his military service that he managed to catch a phone with headphones plugged in, as well as several sheets of paper, and a marker a few inches from the floor. The smell of floral perfume touched his nose.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Ben’s gaze rested on two high top turquoise floral shoes on the feet of the girl at the table. It seemed to him that Van Gogh painted the same flowers.

It took him a few moments to learn something else about this girl beside the fact that she liked art. Her phone’s screen came up with a music player, _The Last of The Real Ones_ playing. He used to listen to the same song too, before and after particularly difficult sessions with his therapist, mainly because of one line: _I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me_.

Oh yeah, he knew, but Ben himself still had no idea whom or what exactly about.

There was another coincidence. One of the sheets of paper stuck to the phone turned out to be a prescription. He was able to make out the name of a rather potent drug for peaceful sleep (long story short). It hadn't helped him. Perhaps she would be luckier. On another sheet with sketches of flowers, he managed to see a strange square dotted with thin vertical lines.

Ben's brain was accustomed to quickly analyzing several indicators of computer systems at once, and he made conclusions in a couple of seconds. She was a young lover of art and music who expressed her thoughts through drawings. She suffered from nightmares.

They had something in common.

“It’s a good song,” Ben said aloud.

The phone’s owner snorted. Standing up, he put her stuff in her outstretched palms and accidentally touched her thin fingers. It felt like touching _a live wire_.

Ben jerked his head up to look the girl in the face. Hazel and green eyes stared at each other in shock. She looked a little younger than him, her face covered by nice freckles and her brown hair short. And it seemed to him that she felt the same.

He couldn’t say anything; he couldn’t even make himself breathe. A single thought filled his mind: _recognition_. Something forgotten long ago, in the depths of his memory had awakened from the touch of her hand, from the glance of her eyes, and began to grow, echoing with heavy longing in his chest. It was something from his dreams, _his nightmares_ that had disappeared with him leaving his hometown years ago to join the military. They had returned this morning, on his way here by train.

Only a second passed. The girl blinked and pulled her hand away. They were again surrounded by soft music from the speakers above the counter. Ben slowly stood up, feeling his knees burning. Finally, he was even able to breathe.

“I have to go,” she muttered and jumped up, grabbing her backpack and shoving her stuff inside without raising her head. As if in a dream, he watched as she threw her backpack over her shoulder and flew out of the café. A glass of almost untouched mint cocoa remained on the table.

Now he was able to return to reality from the gloom of his memories, where distant lights sparkled and the familiar voices of strangers were heard. His name was Ben Solo. He was an autopilot system engineer at a car company. He arrived here to finally work everything out with selling the empty family house. And no – he didn’t know why for many years in a dream he had been seeing himself as a furious warrior in a mask, with a sparkling ( _light-_ ) saber like those in computer games and had desperately wanted to find a girl named Rey. But not to kill her, not at all.

An insane thought appeared in his mind: the girl who had just run away _could be_ Rey too. Ben _could_ have touched her hand and seen her face before. After all, one day he had even got into a fight at school because of it. What the hell?

“Excuse me, sir?” the woman behind the counter called him. He turned around, hoping his expression wasn't too intimidating. While serving in the army (not as long as it should’ve been), he had learned to look impassive, even when there was a storm raging inside.

Like now.

“Can I help you?”

He walked over to the display case and dropped his gaze, looking at the familiar pastries. Éclairs, tiramisu, profiteroles with chocolate cream, raspberry and blueberry cheesecakes, apple pies, apricot rolls, cherry tartlets...

“One apple cinnamon roll, please. To go,” Ben answered in a hushed voice. The rolls ranked first in their family pastries list.

For one day, the impressions were more than enough. His head was still a little dizzy. He thought it would be great to go to sleep as soon as possible, but at the same time he was afraid of what he might see in his dreams.

“Anything else?” a paper bag was put in front of him.

He glanced at the table where R... _the girl_ whose things he had nearly dropped on the floor had been sitting. He could use the hormones of joy too.

“And mint cocoa to go.”

***

Only when her beloved _Paterson_ was far behind, Rey Niima managed to calm down. She hoped the stuff wouldn’t perceive her hasty leaving as a shameful escape after her accidentally touching a guy's hand. They could see how often she came to them from the opposite building where the mental health center was located. 

_“It’s a good song.”_

Her phone with plugged headphones burned through her jacket pocket. Rey wrapped her arms around herself and pressed her head into her shoulders, avoiding looking at the faces around her. The feeling of touching _a live wire_ , the thought that she had remembered the look, the touch of the fingers of a complete stranger – _and that she had reached out to them with all her soul, as if to the warmth once lost!_ – all this was madness. It was definitely not love at first sight (although that guy was attractive in his own way despite his rough features). It was rather a flashback from the depths of her memory. But how could you remember something that never happened?

These were all the consequences of today's appointment with Dr. Watson who had made her relive her dreams, those suddenly returning nightmares... Many years had passed since the last time they visited her, and she had already begun to think of them as a part of her maturity.

But the sand had appeared again this morning.

_She ran away, fleeing its prickly bites, and found herself by the ocean. A salty spray had hit her face before she was whirled in a red and black maelstrom, in the heat of a battle with strange creatures in white and red masks, while countless stars were flying past._

Rey had woken up at dawn, screaming and in tears. In her dream, she had seen a rusty sheet of metal covered with scratches, one for each day of waiting. She had told the doctor about it, but the answer had been predictable: Rey just really missed her parents.

But there had been someone else in the dream – not a friend or an enemy, but someone very important for the girl she had been there. She was angry with him, as you could be with a loved one who was too stubborn to accept help or face the truth. But this couldn't stop... _love_?

 _I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me_. Yeah, she knew, but about whom?

For many years of living with nightmares, Rey had managed to remember his face and sketched a portrait. Leaning against the nearest wall, she rummaged in her backpack and pulled out an old, battered notebook which she never parted with. The original reason had been not to make her parents worry; but now, this notebook was a reminder that once she had meant something to them too (before they started their regular trips around the world in search of junk for their art installations).

Rey hurriedly flipped through pages of sketches of flowers, triple buns hairstyles, and _stormtrooper_ helmets (it was a word from her dreams), dripped with her tears. As a child, she had been advised to give vent to the accumulated fears through creativity. And Rey had started drawing, mostly still life and flowers, and especially she loved the style of Van Gogh. After the feelings of loneliness and anticipation that devoured her at night and were incomprehensible to her parents, such simple things as a bright sunflower or a perfectly round apple seemed like islands of peace. They were proofs that the world was beautiful, after all.

Rey's breathing quickened. She began to worry that it was eluding her – a salutary image, showing her the way out of another nightmare, like a lighthouse at sea. Finally, shaking fingers gripped the notebook. Next to the drawing of a strange _droid_ with a round body was him – with the same thick dark hair, an aquiline nose, and piercing eyes that had not been touched by time. Rey felt her legs give way. She had seen the same scar on the cheek of that big guy in the café; it was just a bit more visible in her picture. The day she had been able to draw it a few years ago, a terrible feeling had haunted her, a pain of losing someone loved once, although earlier she only said goodbye to her parents before their flight (they hadn’t canceled their trip even because of her chickenpox).

She looked around, fearful and at the same time with hope that he was following her. Her fingers still remembered his touch.

Most often, in a dream, this man had called himself Kylo Ren. But that night she had remembered another name. It had suited him much more.

_Ben Solo._

***

“And I know these scars will bleed

But both of our hearts believe

All of these stars will guide us home.”

\- Ed Sheeran, _All Of The Stars_

Ben didn't know what to do next. The thought about a night train didn’t inspire joy, and the last thing he wanted now was to go to the hotel, where his belongings remained. His room was as empty and colorless as his apartment many miles away. Despite the cocoa he had drunk, the sad feeling of loneliness intensified.

The insane idea of going and looking for that girl – he stubbornly avoided calling her _Rey_ – was dismissed at once. At best, he would wander around the city all night; at worst, she would mistake him for a maniac and call the police. She hadn’t been herself when running away from the café, and he hoped that she had made it home safely.

And still, he believed that she could have understand him. It wasn't just a matter of similar musical tastes and love for _Paterson_. Ben guessed that she, too, was not spoiled by family love and had learned to cope with difficulties on her own. Drawing was her salvation. For him, it was history and technology.

The _Grimtaash_ project (the second word from his dreams that didn’t trigger anxiety) was his brainchild, a new technology that was seen as a safe future for road traffic. As if being a calligraphy artist, he created elegant computer codes that made heavy metal, glass, and rubber structures smarter. Safer. They allowed to see obstacles and risks on the road better than the most experienced driver (even a former racer).

The inside pocket of his jacket was heavy with a set of house keys he had kept for himself to remember. A realtor had taken the other one this afternoon. Ben decided that he was unlikely to get any worse after one night in that old place.

Locking the door, he walked into the living room, where, thanks to huge windows, there was enough light from the street lamps. The walls that had previously been hidden behind bookshelves were now unpleasantly empty. There was a sofa in the middle of the room, which his parents bought shortly after he had joined the army, and barely had time to use. Ben leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

The roll was as delicious as the last time his mother had bought it for her grown-up son, who ended up in the hospital after a bad jump in training. On that day, his nightmares had returned again – not in a dream, but in reality. A sudden attack of unbearable melancholy, of the pain of loneliness, strangely connected with the girl from his dreams, cost him unconsciousness, two broken ribs, and a scar across his entire right cheek, which was barely noticeable even now. His parents and Uncle Luke even came to visit him, and all of them had finally been able to sort things out. And several days later they got into a terrible car accident. No one survived.

His dreams had appeared in childhood, at the age of six: shadows, images, other people's voices.

_He saw himself and his parents in strange clothes, next to a strange furry creature named Chewie. His father piloted a spaceship, not a racing car, and Uncle Luke taught Ben how to fight with a lightsaber. _

Soon his parents stopped joking about him writing science fiction novels. But most importantly, _it_ had become stronger.

_He had called it a shadow, then a ghost, and only eventually had managed to find out his real name. Palpatine. His presence was scorchingly cold, like the touch of snow on your bare skin in winter. He made it difficult to breathe, and chases, murders, and fights flashed before Ben’s eyes. _

He woke up in a cold sweat, but over time he learned to silence his screams so as not to frighten his parents. His mother always thought about her job at the Institute of Political Science, and his father, when he wasn’t on the track, didn’t understand anything from his confused speech. He hugged his son, holding him against his chest, but the nightmares had kept repeating.

Luke, who taught history at the university, found Ben a therapist. He concluded that the boy played too much computer games and read too much about those cruel events in world history. But Ben never played computer games and always preferred biographies to depictions of wars. He loved hanging out with his father in the garage and tell him about Henry VIII and Isaac Newton. His mother offered to take lessons from Luke, but his uncle's teaching style seemed too boring and _arrogant_.

Anyway, the therapist didn’t help. His nightmares returned without any clear reasons like the day of the week, the food for lunch, etc. He felt like a puppet that someone had started to play with when getting bored. He had been growing up, and at the same time his dreams had been changing too.

_He saw himself on fire, saw how he split a kyber crystal, how he stood at the head of an army of stormtroopers and then flew across the galaxy. And Palpatine was always behind him. _

In a dream, Ben Solo _(Kylo Ren)_ had been dragged into some dark story, and this had painted Ben’s real life in dark colors. He could have be saved, though, for a while and unexpectedly, by songs about **stars**.

And then, he had managed to find someone else in his dreams.

_First a spark, then a ray, as if a sliver of sun peeped out from behind the clouds, and finally her – a girl with three buns. She fought Kylo, but at the same time they were inextricably connected to each other. Rey._

At the moments of her appearance in his dreams, everything had always become right. The darkness had receded. Until today, he had not felt anything like this _in the real world_. It wasn't love at first sight for a girl in floral shoes – it was something more.

The ghosts of the past emerged from the empty walls, whispering from the shadows. His family wanted to help him but failed. But now he was on the verge of something new, free from secrets, and didn’t want to think that the coming day would be as colorless as all the previous ones.

Despair and hope put him to sleep. And there he was again not alone.

Rey – the girl from _Paterson_ , the one who had defeated him on _Starkiller Base_ – came to him, reviving feelings that had long been consumed by darkness. Now he clearly saw what had previously just dimly flickered in the distance, and gave mental commands, like to a computer, to be able to move on.

_“It isn’t too late.”_

_He saw the fire on Ahch-To, then her tears and her shaking palm. He felt a warm touch across the universe, which was akin to an epiphany – like what had happened today. He watched them fighting back to back. He caught her look, both severe and sad, at the edge of the abyss before parting. Then there were long months of anger, despair, immersion in darkness, where the spark of light still hadn’t burned out. They were followed by a frantic race across the galaxy that he and Rey ended with one blow of the saber._

_And that’s when he understood everything._

_She saw in him a person, not a legacy. She saw Kylo Ren’s light beside his darkness. She saw Ben Solo._

_All this time, hope that was painful and unshakable, was growing inside him to extinguish and then revive, and shine, and defeat the sinister curse._

Ben was starting to wake up, but he clung to sleep with all his might. This was not the end. The story of _those_ Ben and Rey continued, and the goose bumps and warmth growing in his chest told him that very little was missing for the final revelation.

Ben abruptly opened his eyes and got up with a jolt, his cheeks wet with tears. Outside the windows, the dawn was slowly breaking, hitting the overgrown rose bushes in front of the cottage and turning them pink.

He needed to go back to the hotel to freshen up, and then to find her. Even if she didn't remember anything; if she was scared; if... she was in a relationship –

At least, they would see each other again.

***

“All the stars are coming out tonight

They're lighting up the sky tonight

For you…”

\- Take That, _Rule The World_

Fortunately, this time Rey managed to slip past Mr. Brams unnoticed. The new building manager still couldn't forgive her for refusing to date his son (who recently had confessed that he was gay, but this fact had done nothing to his parent's resentment against Rey).

The drug was her last hope. For several years, she had been living quietly, filling her world with flowers and drawings, and now _those_ dreams had returned again.

Rey realized she was crying. She was tired of looking for whatever it was, tired of waiting. She was tired of waking up with the feeling that she had just lost something dear and loved, tired of chasing a shadow. It was maddening.

_There were sand and a spray of the ocean again, strange creatures around. One of them was called Che... Chewie? The images were faint, her hands were calloused, and it was not a pencil they held, but a lightsaber. She could fight and move objects with her mind, but continued to desperately seek her place in the world. She failed._

Her eyes ached and her forehead was cramping. Her parents could had never understood how the art (drawing and listening to songs about _the stars)_ – was powerless to help. They had grown tired of her company and had been happy to leave the burden to the therapists. And Rey diligently told everything, and they wrote it down and proposed strange theories of her hobbies and worldview. After all, her therapy had been reduced to flowers, first in the drawings, then in her room, and then at her work in a cozy bright flower shop.

Finishing her mint tea and sobbing, Rey thought back to the guy from the café. Did he listen to the same songs? Did they remind him of... anything, like they did to her?

She curled up on the bed, turning off the light. The patterns of light from street lamps flickered before her eyes, and she had to close her eyes, digging her nails into her palms.

“Please, _please_ –”

There was some tension in the air, as if before a thunderstorm – or maybe it only seemed that way. Rey thought about the flowers that she would go drawing in the park near _Paterson_ tomorrow, after the end of her shift in the flower shop. Roses, irises, jasmine – they would make a beautiful design for her version of the constellation Andromeda. She reminded herself why her life still made sense.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, having forgotten about the drug. And she was surprisingly calm, meeting that guy from _Paterson_. His face was inscrutable, but his hazel eyes – oh, that's where you could read all his feelings.

_"You are not alone."_

_He – Kylo Ren, Ben Solo – felt the same way. She saw the same fear, the same desire to cope with yourself, to take risks and stop your own death. He needed acceptance just as much, and she sobbed, realizing that their shared wish was just one impossible step away from them._

_The Force connected them, allowed them to share their thoughts and touch each other through millions of parsecs. Like a thin brushstroke of golden paint, their connection stretched through the scarlet throne room, froze when he refused to end the war, went in uneven leaps through months of separation, mutual resentment, and growing anger, until finally they met again. One blow of the saber was enough for that Rey to see the light._

_He said he knew her, but it was mutual. She saw a soul crippled by darkness. She saw a spark of light which the Sith magic had failed to defeat. She saw Ben Solo and not whomever they wanted to make of him._

And, as the dreams began to slip away from her, Rey was full of confidence that their shared story was just beginning.

She woke up, feeling unusually light-hearted, as if someone had finally loosened their grip on her throat. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she looked around herself calmly. Something was waiting ahead – exciting, long-awaited, _right_.

She would see him today. She would tell him, and if he thought her crazy and left... well. At least, they would meet one last time.

***

Ben came to breakfast at _Paterson_ , and as he was sitting here with a cup of coffee, he realized that if she was still scared about yesterday’s incident, he certainly wouldn’t see her here again. She also could work today. At a planetarium? At an auto repair shop? At a flower shop? Considering that in his dreams he saw her living in the desert, the last assumption was quite likely.

He decided to walk around the city, hoping for good luck. It couldn't end like this.

***

Hoping that he didn't think she was scared of him, Rey rushed to _Paterson_ as soon as she got off. He wasn't here. Upset, she bought herself a turkey sandwich and went to the park. She had a favorite place there – the bench near the large flower bed in front of the fountain, next to which jasmine branches, strewn with white flowers, were bent over. She took a big detour as she walked up here, looking around in hopes of spotting the familiar dark silhouette, but in vain. An unpleasant thought struck her: he could have been in this city on business and left that evening. He could... anything could have happened.

 _Find me,_ she thought, sitting down to face the main alley and dropping a notebook on her knees. Her hand began to draw the contours of a purple iris, and she felt confidence growing in her chest.

***

Ben visited every flower shop within a five-mile radius, referring to a map. Using his half-abandoned accounts on social networks, he started searching using hashtags, hoping for the power of algorithms. He found nothing. It looked like Rey was living beyond the online world. Not a single post was a hint of her. Nothing clenched in his chest, nothing skipped a beat.

Suddenly, he came across a photo from the park nearby. He used to walk there on weekends with his parents when he was a young boy.

Ben stopped and sighed. Why not? After all, she loved flowers.

He had a good feeling about this.

***

“…Like starlight, starlight

Like we dream impossible dreams.

Don't you see the starlight, starlight?

Don't you dream impossible things?”

\- Taylor Swift, _Starlight_

It was late afternoon. Rey got hungry, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. Several times she had thought about him – _Ben_ – passing by, but this had always turned out to be a stranger. Without noticing it, she began to draw his face right behind the irises, as if he was spying on her.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her neck. Rey held her breath and slowly raised her head. Someone's boots were rustling on tiles between the trees – she could hear them despite the surrounding noise.

He stopped next to her bench. He was in a blue shirt and the same black leather jacket, looking uncertainly and a little apprehensively. Rey's breathing quickened. She waited.

Her look seemed to reassure him. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Excuse me... I hope I didn't scare you yesterday. You ran away so quickly.”

“Everything’s fine. I had things to do,” she responded and even managed to smile a little.

Chewing his lips, he looked from her smile to her eyes. It seemed as if there was thin ice under his feet which was about to break.

Rey tilted her head slightly, and he slowly lowered himself onto the bench, clasping his large hands together. He was almost a head taller, and Rey noticed his shirt buttons straining against his wide chest. Compared to him, she felt herself tiny, but it wasn’t upsetting at all. In fact, there was something cute about that.

“Do you come here often?” he asked.

“Yes. I love flowers. And this is a good place to relax.”

“I haven't been here for a long time,” he remarked, looking around. “Now I live in another city.”

Rey felt her chest constrict slightly – she didn't even think about the most important thing. He didn’t have a wedding ring, but he could still be in a relationship. She squeezed the edge of her notebook and decided to continue.

“Why did you return? Do you miss this place?”

“I have personal affairs,” he replied shortly, not angry with her curiosity, but simply because it would take a long time to tell.

His plush lips smiled a little, but his eyes didn’t leave her face and stared as intently as if trying to read her thoughts. Rey guessed she was looking the same way at him. The sounds of the city surrounding them died down.

“You know, that song that you listened to yesterday... I love it too. As well as some more songs about stars,” he shrugged, as if being embarrassed.

“I have a special relationship with them, you know.”

Hearing her laugh, he took a deep breath. The tension in the air was almost palpable.

“By the way, what’s your name?” mentally, she crossed her fingers.

“Ben,” he replied, watching her reaction, “Solo.”

Rey didn’t disappoint him. Unable to hold her notebook, she dropped it on her knees. Her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“And yours?”

"Rey," she replied, no doubt that he knew it. “Rey Niima.”

Ben unlocked his fingers, no longer hiding his emotion. They moved closer to each other without noticing.

“You’ll think me crazy. But I – I saw you –“

“In a dream,” Rey said quickly. “I saw you too.”

“Oh God...” he gasped.

“How is this possible?”

“I don’t know. Have you spoken to anyone about this?”

“To my therapist,” Rey said gloomily, and Ben nodded in acknowledgment. “My parents didn’t understand me.”

“Neither did mine. And the drugs –“

“They didn't help.”

She suddenly snorted. “It sounds strange, but I really wanted to –”

“To listen to songs about stars.”

They talked one after the other, knowing that no one would be mistaken. With each passing minute, their vision was becoming clearer, and their shared sense of recognition intensified.

Rey got tired of beating around the bush, but then Ben said:

“The precision is pivotal in my work. I'm not used to guessing and I don't know if past lives and the like exist, but,” his low voice cracked, “everything points to the fact that they are real.”

“I dare not guess anymore,” Rey said. “But what you say seems to be true.”

“How much do you remember?”

She tried to remember everything she saw. He nodded slowly, reinforcing the sense of anticipation of something exciting that was growing inside her.

He told her his story without fear of looking stupid. Now that would be awkward. She listened intently as he compared the story of the family from his dreams with the one of him, his real parents, and his uncle, gasping when learning of their death.

“I'm so sorry!”

She spoke briefly about herself. Her story also had many similarities with her dreams, including the special attitude of her parents towards garbage (after their last departure, she had gone ballistic and taken out several large bags of rags, rusty parts, and plastic from the apartment). But they both were alive, although they rarely appeared in her life.

Ben’s and Rey's dreams ended at the same place.

The ocean. The metal scraps. The pain that had flared up and then faded. _Hope._

“I saved your life,” Rey said, staring at her fingers in disbelief.

“And I was going to help you,” Ben added, remembering the dark rocks appearing before his eyes, as well as the weight of the blaster on his hip.

“It’s all true,” Rey whispered. She leaned closer to him.

“All of it.”

Ben's voice cracked again, and he dared to touch her hand. Rey sucked in a breath through her teeth. Their fingers twitched and intertwined.

She could see every mole on his cheeks, the golden sparks in his hazel eyes. His gaze wandered over the freckles that covered her face like stars in the sky.

Their lips met, catching each other easily, like two flowers brushing against each other at the behest of the wind.

And the world around became _right_ again.

They were blinded by a dazzling light, in which they saw the end of their story.

***

_In his thoughts, he felt the weight of her dead body on his legs, a long-awaited sigh under his palm. He felt her fingers on his cheeks and her hot lips, salty yet tender, kissing him as if he was the greatest treasure she would never give to anyone else._

_At that moment, he thought that his heart would break with love and a long-awaited sense of peace._

_And how much that Ben dreamed of a miracle, so that someone could give him some life Force or bring them to another planet. But Exegol was dead, and his masters had taught him too well. He knew what would happen next._

_He dreamed of seeing her face, but he could no longer open his eyes. And, slowly plunging into darkness, he remembered her radiant gaze, her smile, the touch of her warm palm over his own. She was his blessing. What would he not give for just one more second!_

_Rey, the other half of their dyad, didn’t deserve to be alone again. Ben Solo loved her until his last breath._

***

_The dark shadow in the hood that made her skin crawl – Palpatine – was struck down._

_ That _ _Rey saw Ben's face bruised and scarred, beautiful yet twisted with fear. She felt the taste of blood when she kissed him, happy and light-hearted for the first time in forever. And he kissed her back, eagerly and softly._

_She heard his quiet and sincere laugh at her excitement – he didn’t even have time to say anything, and she wasn’t able to see what was coming..._

_She shared with him one soul. He saved her life. He was her hope. He was her home, even after vanishing into the Force so quickly, so **unfair**. She was left with two things: a broken heart and a dream of a life that they could have lived together. The rest of her life alone was a void._

***

In this reality, Rey gasped against his parted lips, afraid to feel that eerie coldness of his disappearing body again.

But he remained warm. With one hand touching her fingers, Ben wrapped the other around her waist. She pulled back to look him in his eyes. _Her_ Ben's eyes.

How long he had waited.

How long she had waited.

“It's really you,” Rey breathed and touched his plush lips with hers again, as if to check. Ben pressed his forehead to hers, their noses touching, and smiled.

“I said I'd come back for you, sweetheart.”

Someone from the passers-by whistled at them. Rey furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed with the intervention. Ben pushed her notebook onto the bench and pulled her closer, into his lap. Taking Rey's face in his hands, he whispered everything that came to his mind, caressing her lips with his own, and she, not remembering herself from happiness, did the same to him.

“This is really not a dream –“

“You’re with me –“

“At last –“

“After so many years –“

“You shouldn't have been left alone –“

“Don’t think about it! Never think about it again, my love. It's all over.“

“I love you.“

“I'm with you –“

She laughed. He kissed her hungrily, passionately one more time, as if teasing the Force and anyone who would dare to stop them this time.

But no one was there.

“You know, I got into a fight in high school because of you,” Ben said after a while. Rey put her head on his shoulder and traced circles into his shirt with her finger, inhaling the woody scent of his cologne.

“What do you mean?”

He tugged at the laces on her floral Vans shoes, holding her close with his other large palm spanning almost the entirety of her stomach.

“My classmates were talking about their ideal girlfriends, and I described you, as far as I could remember. They said that someone like you would be with me out of pity or if my parents paid you. You know, the girls with breasts less than С cup are not worth even looking at. Especially if they don’t wear tight leather overalls like in comic books all the time...”

Rey grimaced at his words. She had had a hard time at school too, but, fortunately, Ben had remained a secret.

“And what did you do?”

“Huh!” he threw back his head and grinned contentedly – what _a Solo_. “Chris was hospitalized with a broken jaw. JJ got a black eye and cut his lip, and Colin got a bump on his forehead. Well, actually, _this_ was not my fault – he himself crashed into the locker after trying to pull his friends away from me.”

Rey sighed with mock sadness and scrunched her nose.

“Do you happen to know where they all live now?”

Ben raised his eyebrows and stared in amazement at her innocent expression that could not fool him. Rey, who was so small and tender in his arms, radiated pure fury.

“No. The last thing in the world I want to do is to waste _our_ time on them.”

Rey took his palm in her small hands and stroked it, as if there was still blood on his knuckles.

“I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” she muttered. Ben laughed.

Even though now the world seemed to be perfect, Rey shivered. She was in a blazer and a light dress, and they couldn’t protect her from the evening chill. Ben got up and hugged her to his chest, covering her with his jacket. Rey wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up, listening to the quiet beat of his living heart.

“Neither will I,” he said, kissing her nose.

He threw her backpack over his shoulder alongside his bag and they walked towards the exit of the park. They had a lot to tell each other.

***

Being apart at least for a few hours seemed impossible. But Ben would never take her to the hotel, and there was neither water nor electricity in his parents' house. Rey made him promise to ignore the mess in her apartment.

Mr. Brams again tried to remind her of the importance of paying rent on time (Rey always paid on time, but he enjoyed annoying her with that occasionally). However, seeing Ben beside her, he paused. Ben had to bow his head to look into the eyes of this grump.

“You’ll get your money on time,” Rey said tiredly, standing on the lower steps. "I already told you this a few days ago."

“I dare say that this is a respectable place, and you –”

He didn’t manage to finish his sentence.

“I’m Miss Niima’s fiancé.”

Ben sounded exactly like the Supreme Leader in his past life. Under his gaze, Mr. Brams swallowed nervously. "You can be sure that the reputation of this place will not be affected."

"By heaven, Ben..." Rey whispered, taking him upstairs and barely holding back a laugh. She was still getting used to the fact that he would be there _in this life_.

Ben found her bright apartment tiny. The huge bookcase in the living room (aka her parents' bedroom) was filled with books of all shapes and colors. On the windowsills in the rooms, there was no place free of plants, and all walls were hung with pictures of roses, lilies, cherry trees, vases with irises, lilacs, and jasmine. There were also Rey’s recent works – the figures of constellations of stars wrapped around the flower stems.

Rey sat him down at the small round table in the kitchen, pulled a plate of chocolate chip cookies to him, and turned on the kettle. Ben couldn't get enough of her. His Rey – a scavenger from Jakku, a powerful Jedi, a part of a dyad in the Force, _his love_ – created wonderful things. She was alive and well. And he found her.

Taking the cookie, she was thinking the same thing. Ben told her about the project he was working on, and she was insanely proud of him. He wanted to help people, and he finally could do it _now_.

After the cookies, she took him to her room and showed him her latest hobby. Rey used plants and resin to create jewelry and sold it in the flower shop she worked at with the owner's permission.

“That's why I love flowers,” she explained. “Their beauty remains even after their life is gone.”

Ben picked up a long necklace with two small transparent cubes as a pendant that looked like lucky _dice_. Each of them contained a four-leaf clover. For a brief moment, the memories of _Millennium Falcon_ captured the minds of them both.

“I decided not to sell it,” Rey finally said, quietly. “Now I know why.”

She covered his hand with hers.

“Keep it.”

The feelings building in Ben's chest could no longer be contained. He couldn’t believe that heaven – or the Force – allowed his dream to come true.

He put the necklace near the desk lamp that illuminated a big portion of her little room and stroked Rey's cheek, as if once again making sure she wasn’t a dream. She smiled and sobbed. Wiping away the tears with his thumbs, Ben kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. Rey felt his throat tremble.

“You’re my light, Rey Niima. No matter which life I would live.”

“And you would shake the stars to come back for me, Ben Solo.”

Her thin fingers lingered against his cheek.

Standing on tiptoe, she pulled him close and kissed him, then again and again, burying her fingers in his locks until he lifted her off the floor and pressed her back against the wall. The heat in his chest spread quickly throughout his body.

It was not a simple lust; it was a thirst, an impatience to find out what they had once been deprived of and what had finally been returned to them.

Rey's shaking hands gripped the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning several buttons and sliding to his bare shoulders. Ben's lips dropped to her neck and her bare collarbones, and then he felt her freeze.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Rey looked away in embarrassment, licking her swollen lips and sliding down to the floor.

“I have never –” she cleared her throat, “I have never come this far – with anyone. I just couldn't. It felt wrong, like I was betraying myself.”

"I understand," Ben nodded slowly. Even touching another girl's hand had been a bit awkward to him (he used to feel like Prince Charming who was looking for Cinderella, trying on a glass slipper on the foot of every maiden), let alone the other parts of a body. Once he had even received a slap in the face, being unable to clearly explain what had been wrong. His excuse _"You are not the girl whom I saw in my dream"_ had been considered as stupid.

“If you don’t want –”

“That's not what I mean!” Rey took a deep breath, placing her fist on his chest. “I want everything to be perfect. And I decided to tell you that I had never tried… well.“

She made several awkward hand movements. Ben took her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“We’ve known each other even before the beginning of this life. Everything _will be_ perfect.”

Rey rubbed her bare shoulder. A small implant could be seen through her skin. Mrs. Johnson, the owner of the flower shop, had once given her a doctor's card along with a pepper spray.

_("Until you understand that he is the one, this will be your protection.")_

Glancing at the implant, Ben put his hand over her fist and waited patiently. Rey, the strongest person he ever knew in both lives, the most beautiful creature, doubted what seemed obvious.

Finally, Rey smiled, blushing.

“I needed to hear this, Ben.”

Moving away from him, she took off her dress over her head and threw it on a chair. Ben's gaze slowly slid over her bare skinny legs and white underwear, locking on her face. Rey looked shyly at him, biting her lip, and in the twilight of the room she seemed like a beautiful ghost from another world.

She looked like a miracle, not a real person.

Shaking off the eerie thought, Ben stepped forward, hugging her warm shoulders and hiding his face in her soft brown hair, while her fingers hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and fiddled with the belt on his jeans. He helped her.

 _No more ghosts_ , Ben decided, sweeping her up, small and light as a feather, in a bridal carry, lowering her down onto her bed. Kissing him, Rey ran her hands over the rigid muscles of his stomach and wide pale shoulders (which she had already noticed before on Ahch-To).

No more and never.

***

Ben and Rey didn't know whether to curse the Force or to offer eternal prayers to it.

It remained a mystery what it would be like for them to be together as a dyad in the Force in the galaxy far, far away, melting both their bodies and minds together in perfect unison, sharing absolutely _everything_. On the other hand, they had still got their chance, the mind reading replaced by touches, whispers of soft guidance, low moans, light and deep kisses. Full of passion and curiosity to see, to touch, to taste more, they both were patient and enjoyed the leisure of having time. After the first moments of pain had passed, holding each other tightly holding they both were consumed by that indescribable feeling full of stars.

It was more than a pleasure. Behind it were decades of hope and permanent grief; years of agonizing search for what had always eluded them; hours of impatient waiting and anxiety whether life would had turned out to be a cruel joke; the moment when it had become clear that miracles could happen. The Force was indeed incredibly strong with their dyad.

And now the Force burned and caressed, made them shiver and soothed, sang in every word and touch. It was felt on their tongues. It played on their lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ben managed between pants, holding Rey’s shaking shoulders until she finally sank down on the pillow next to him. In the light of the desk lamp, her green eyes shone with tenderness. Passion. Hope. The Force.

He moved even closer, brushing the hair stuck to her forehead and pressing a gentle kiss beneath her ear. In his eyes she saw everything that he could not express in words when touched her. They all seemed too weak.

“It’s because I’m so in love with you,” she replied with a quiet laugh, her hand on her belly. Still shaking, Ben lowered his raven head to her chest to press an open-mouthed kiss to her soft skin, and then more and more, as if being afraid that the very taste of her might have changed. Rey threw back her head and closed her eyes, feeling the skin under his lips burning. He was the only real thing in her world, Ben – the taste of him, his smell, warmth, and breath, and the memory of the look in his hazel eyes following her every movement.

Her heart quickened under his fingers again, and she squeezed the sheets, her other hand burying in his hair, asking him to return and kiss her.

Catching their breath, they got out of the bed, but, standing in the shower under the stream of hot water, could not tear themselves away from each other. Chuckling, Ben let Rey lather his hair along with her own, and as the last vestiges of suds were disappearing, she again kissed the thin scar on his cheek and his chest. Just as much as he did, she wanted to make sure she wasn't missing anything new, and soon his name got lost in the hiss of water.

When Ben turned off the water, she felt his smile on her lips and opened her eyes. There were droplets of water on his eyelashes and hair, and he looked at her as if he had never seen anything more wonderful. Rey touched his neck; she could say the same.

“I was born with love for you.”

“And I had loved you before I could remember you.”

She blinked, and a drop of water rolled down her cheek.

“Wherever we get –”

“I will always be with you.”

***

They woke up in the same position they had fell asleep, arms and legs intertwined, as if they were still afraid to lose each other. Kissing Ben softly on the corner of his lips, Rey sat up and stretched, feeling something new and pleasant between her thighs. She wouldn’t be surprised if she noticed prints of his touches on her body; she remembered each one.

Her naked silhouette, perfectly outlined by the sun's rays, was like a masterpiece brought to life. Ben wished he could draw her. Reaching out, he ran his fingers over the delicate warm skin of hers. Rey shivered with pleasure and turned around.

With the bangs covering his forehead and sleepy eyes, Ben looked younger and defenseless. It was a bit strange, given the chiseled body of him and the fact that he was taller than her refrigerator, but Rey thought about how natural it was to see him in her bed. It seemed like they had been on Exegol just a few days ago – and all the terrible years of their past lives and these ones were just a bad dream.

“I told you everything would be perfect,” Ben said, grinning.

Rey crawled over to him, putting her head on his shoulder, and he pulled her to him, inhaling her smell. They both felt at home.

“You were right,” she rubbed her nose against his cheek. “And I want to wake up like this every day.”

Ben looked around the room. The pictures hung on the discolored wallpaper overlapped each other, some of Rey’s numerous potted plants were already on the floor, and a bundle of colorful clothes was piled on the chair. Compared to his apartment, this one little corner was full of life.

“We will,” he closed his eyes for a moment, collecting the memories of all his senses of this night into one bright and beautiful image - just like Rey herself was.

Suddenly, there was an indistinct yell coming from outside, followed by a _thud_ and the shrill beep of a car alarm. Rey and Ben both grimaced and laughed. It was impossible to believe that nothing had changed in the world outside.

“But only without _this_. Let's get some breakfast?”

Rey vaguely remembered there were a few eggs and ham in the fridge, as well as yesterday's cookies in the cabinet. She hadn't had an appetite lately.

“You know, _Paterson_ provides delivery,” Ben told her.

"We should order two apple cinnamon rolls," Rey said, breaking into a smile. “This is the _most delicious_ thing I've tasted there.”

By this time, they had remembered and learned so many precious, beautiful, and nice things about each other, but the last revelation about Rey made Ben laugh. Deliberately slowly, he ran his hand over her stomach, breasts and neck, touched her cheek, and pressed her against the bed with his body, kissing her laughing lips. He couldn’t imagine that he would ever be so happy. And that just recently he had believed that his loneliness would never end.

Rey wrapped her legs around him, her hands wandering across his back, meaning love and safety.

This is how it would have been – if he hadn't been thrown into the abyss; if Rey hadn't been left alone in the Citadel; if _anyone_ had helped them at that moment.

When, after a while, Rey had slipped out of his embrace and left the room, Ben reached out and took out the phone from the pocket of his jeans. After calling _Paterson_ , another call would have to be made.

His office was located exactly between this city and where he lived now.

The family house was not for sale anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> This started from me listening almost every week to "The Last Of The Real Ones", a confirmed song about Reylo, and then I had some more ideas about our beloved characters (and songs). I hope you liked this story. 
> 
> P.S. You could find two Anidala lines from ROTS in one scene <3


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